They Called My Father a Traitor, So I Learned Every Secret They Buried novel · Chapter 6 of 24

Chapter 6: The Proof Meant for the Mountains

Kestrel set the brass-fitted satchel on my table and cut through its torn inner lining while I ordered him to stop hiding what he carried.

The blade opened the seam. A folded leaf slipped free and landed beside Oswin's sealed report.

Hadley swore. Old Marta bent over the table, her hand closing around the harness leather at her belt.

I caught Kestrel's wrist before he could touch the parchment.

'Leave it there.'

He looked at my hand, then at my face. 'Wynn, I have been searched, chained, examined, and nearly condemned as an enemy Alpha. I thought I might open my own satchel.'

'You thought wrong.'

'You are learning quickly.'

Hadley glanced between us. 'If you two are done testing which one bites harder, the paper is waiting.'

Kestrel's mouth moved once. The almost-smile disappeared.

I released him and took the leaf with clean fingers. The fold had been flattened and refolded so often that the edges had gone soft. A smear of old red wax clung to the outer crease.

The seal beneath it matched the royal record hidden in my medical text. Crowned wolf. Points around the ring. High Council mark below. Black wax pressed at the bottom.

My father's name filled the first line.

Aurelian Sablewood.

Marta's fingers tightened on the leather. Hadley stopped breathing through her nose and began doing it through her mouth instead, the way she did when pain made her careful.

Kestrel watched me read.

'You knew this was inside the satchel.'

'I knew the lining had been repaired. I did not know what had survived behind it.'

'You crossed the mountains with an unopened compartment beside your ribs.'

'At the time, men wearing Corvin's colors were attempting to kill me. It narrowed my list of concerns.'

'You found room for the royal record.'

'That concern had better prospects.'

The answer was dry. It was also true.

He had arrived bleeding on my clinic floor with the record pressed against his body. I had treated his wound as the point where my father's trail began.

It had begun before him.

I opened the leaf fully. Three columns covered the inside. My father's hand filled the first. Another writer had added dates and locations. The final column held a receiving mark from the High Council office.

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